Inside the Great Hall.
With a single cry of "Brush!"
Everyone in the hall fell utterly silent.
Every gaze settled on Xu Qingxiao.
The purple Righteous Haoran Qi left many Confucian scholars stunned.
Xu Qingxiao held the Spring and Autumn Brush.
Then Chen Zhengru's voice rang out.
"Quickly, prepare paper for Shouren."
Chen Zhengru ordered someone to bring Xu Qingxiao paper.
But Xu Qingxiao spoke.
"No need."
"An immortal poem needs no paper."
His calm voice sent a wave of astonishment through the Great Hall. Everyone sucked in a cold breath, utterly dumbfounded.
The Ten Kingdoms’ Great Talents looked particularly dazed.
Why was Xu Qingxiao so arrogant?
He had not even composed his poem, yet he dared call it immortal?
Well, then! Let me see whether you can compose an immortal poem today.
The Ten Kingdoms’ Great Talents all simmered with resentment, especially Li En of Tang. He should have stolen the limelight at today's grand banquet, yet Xu Qingxiao had seized it all the moment he arrived.
And he was boasting so shamelessly. Li En's poem had attained nation-guarding stature, yet Xu Qingxiao declared he would write an immortal poem before even beginning.
Fine! Let us see whether you can write an immortal poem today.
The Ten Kingdoms’ Great Talents watched Xu Qingxiao.
The people of Great Wei watched Xu Qingxiao.
The literati of Great Wei watched Xu Qingxiao.
At the banquet sat Chen Zhengru, Zhang Jing, Gu Yan, Zhou Yan, the Grand Confucians of the Great Wei Literary Palace, and the heads of the Four Great Academies.
Everyone watched Xu Qingxiao!
Everyone awaited a miracle!
And just then.
Xu Qingxiao began writing, his voice rising with the stroke of his brush.
"Do you not see!"
"The Yellow River's waters descend from heaven, rushing to the sea, never to